The woman's eyes widened, and I had one gasp of air before it was shoved out of me.
Just that fast, it took hold. There was no pain, but I could feel the rush of the ley line spill into me, vibrating every cell until I felt overly full. A sheet of smut-tainted ever-after enveloped me, making my hearing muzzy, but there was a clicking like a trillion abacuses as my cells prepared to shift, turning things on, turning other things off. Then the flow of energy hesitated.
I got another breath in before it was shoved out again. I felt as if I was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste. Energy flowed out of me as I shrank. My eyes quit working, and I panicked. There was the shattering of something: a hard crack followed by the tinkling of shards. I thought it might be my soul.
With a final pulse echoing in from the line, the curse played itself out. My ears popped and everything sounded off. I opened my eyes to find I was in a black-sheened world of cotton smelling like soap. My shirt. I'd done it. I felt behind me, exhaling when I found no wings.
'I take the smut,' I said as I felt the first ping of returning sensation from the ever-after. The rising wave of pain crested, then broke about me to lap a new film of black imbalance over me. I tasted it as I grabbed a fold of shirt and tried to cover myself, thinking the new coating had almost a metallic tang to it. My legs were hairy, as in I-can't-find-my-razor hairy. I wasn't going to look at my armpits, knowing what I'd find. I suddenly realized I'd reset my biological clock yet again. No wonder demons lived forever.
'Nice,' I whispered, looking up as I heard the hum of pixy wings and a shaft of light pierced in. It was Jih, looking like an angel as she clambered into my shirt, a haze of blue sparkles about her. A green dress with gold and silver lace was over her arm. Under it was a set of green trousers and a shirt—for Pierce, I was sure. The young pixy woman pushed aside a fold of cloth and stood. She looked to be ten inches shorter than me if we had been human size. Her face was streaked with glitter from her dried tears, and she looked miserable. I knew she was a full adult with a husband and a garden of her own, but she looked ten to me, and my heart went out to her. I wasn't the only one grieving.
'Ms. Rachel,' she said, holding out the dress. Her voice sounded exactly the same, which I thought odd. Mine did, too.
'Thanks, Jih,' I said, quickly taking the dress and accepting her help putting it on. It crossed over itself in the back and tied in the front to allow for wings. The fabric itself was soft and so light I hardly knew I had it on, making me feel naked anyway. Silver and gold lace decorated it, and apart from my embarrassingly hairy lower legs showing, it fit perfectly. 'This is beautiful,' I murmured, and Jih managed a sad smile, meeting my eyes for the first time.
'Thank you,' she said softly. 'I made it last year. It was the first time I'd ever tried making that pattern of lace. It took me all week to convince my mother—'
Her words stopped, and my heart just about broke when she covered her face and started to cry. 'Oh, Jih,' I said, immediately stumbling over the inside of my shirt to get to her. 'I'm so sorry.' I gave the young wife a hug and she sobbed all the harder. 'We are all going to miss her, but you probably most of all. You knew her your entire life.'
Pulling back, she nodded as she wiped her eyes with a small cloth pulled from behind the bandage on her arm. She'd fought beside her parents, another pixy tradition broken.
'D-do you think you can get my papa to live?' she stammered, her eyes bright with unshed glitter as she looked up at me, hope in them for the first time.
'Do you think I should?' I asked, wondering if me messing with pixy culture was the right thing to do. It seemed every time I tried to change things for the better, I messed them up.
lih's tears slowed. 'I don't know,' she said wistfully. 'I never thought about having just a mother
She looked up as both the sky and the light were eclipsed. 'Excuse me,' she said, gathering up Pierce's clothes and darting away. My hair flew everywhere from her backwind, and alarm filled me as my footing became unstable when Ivy carefully pressed the shirt down, exposing me to the world. Pierce hadn't shifted yet, and he blinked at me in bemusement. I wondered if I looked like a woman from his time, making me feel even more awkward.
'Rachel?' Ivy's voice boomed out, and I cowered, hands over my ears.
'Not so loud!' I shouted, and she drew back, uncertainty in her big, fat face. How she looked enormous and the sun and clouds looked the same was beyond me.
'I can't hear her,' Ivy said to Ceri. 'She just squeaks.'
'Well, I can hear you!' I shouted. Feeling exposed, I awkwardly climbed over my shirt to the ground. My feet were bare, and the earth was squishy. Sure, the dress made me feel like a princess, but it was a pain in the ass. I sure hoped there weren't any rats round. I'd be doing the classic stupid-girl fall if I had to run.
'I couldn't duplicate the pixy magic that amplifies voices,' Ceri said, and I jumped when Ivy put her face right next to mine.
'Wow, Rachel,' she whispered, sending her orange-juice-scented breath all over me. 'You look like a Bite- Me-Betty doll in a prom dress.'
Slumping, I sighed. I couldn't help but wonder if this feeling of being small was why Jenks was so bad tempered. I was never going to get in his face again. Damn it, I had to get in there. He was alone, grieving for his wife.
A series of clicks drew my attention up, and I blanched at the row of savage faces staring down at me from the top of the picnic table. Holy crap. And I thought they were scary when they were six inches tall. Now they were downright terrifying. Sidereal had his arms crossed, his expression unreadable as a bandaged woman stood on tiptoe and spoke in his ear, her white hair all glittery and her legs showing. She dropped back down to her heels, touching her hair as she looked at mine, making me self-conscious about my red hair color.
Above me, Pierce took a breath as I felt him tap a line, but he jerked when Ivy grabbed his arm with a white-knuckled strength. 'Keep her safe,' she threatened.
'Ivy!' I shouted, or squeaked, rather, and Ivy's brow furrowed. Jih flitted a nervous arc between him and Ceri, Pierce's clothes still in her arms.
'No, I'll allow that's fair,' Pierce said, his gaze flicking to me and then back to Ivy's grip on him. 'I'm by no means the biggest toad in the puddle when it comes to magic, but Rachel will be safe. See that you do your part in keeping the garden safe.' He touched her hand, and she jerked away at the pulse of green-tinted ever-after. 'The coven will assume failure shortly, and I don't want to be burned alive from a fireball shot from a passing carriage.' Frowning, he took a step back as Ivy rubbed her hand.
A film of black ever-after coated him. His eyes widened, and then he was gone, his clothes collapsing in a pile. My hair shifted as they hit the ground beside me, and my pulse hammered. He had taken the smut on himself. I knew without asking. I owed him, but he was probably not going to see it that way.
Jih hovered over Pierces old clothes, calling out before she dropped his new ones from about a foot up. The young woman was flustered when she flew back to me, her hands going out to my hair almost before she landed. 'Let me fix it,' she said. 'Quick, before he gets here.'
'It's fine, Jih,' I complained, but she tsk-tsked me, slapping my reaching hands when they got too close to her work.
'It's awful,' she pronounced, making me feel like a Neanderthal next to her lithe grace. 'But it won't be if you would be quiet and let me do this.'
Chafing at the wait, I held still while Ceri and Ivy peered down at Pierce's clothes and waited for him to emerge. Jih quickly braided my hair into a complicated knot that would at least keep it from getting into my face with all the wind from pixy wings and shrinking men. 'Now you look better,' the pixy said, her grief abating slightly in the task of caring for another.
'Thank you,' I whispered, feeling like a princess as she stood beside me while Pierce made his way to us, testing his hand and marveling that the burn was gone. His beard was back, and he looked like an older version of one of Jenks's kids, the one with dark hair, dressed in the traditional tight trousers and gardening jacket. The jacket was loose since it tied in the back as well as the front, and he couldn't manage it alone. It was the same fabric as my dress, but clearly masculine. His feet were bare, and they looked kind of thin. He even had a hat, perched rakishly on his head.
'Rachel,' he said as soon as he was close enough, his worry obvious. 'Are you well?'
